


Practice

by aquartertil



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Happy Kent Parson, One Shot, kent parson is a good guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquartertil/pseuds/aquartertil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent just wanted to practice. Why did that boy keep bothering him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to get this up before the update because I will not do anything else but that for at least a week.

Based on [this tumblr post](http://hockeyandbaking.tumblr.com/post/146321496913/jedusaur-i-was-at-the-park-today-and-saw-two)

\--------------------------------------------

There was a small, run down community rink up in New York near his mother's house that he went to when he was younger, just starting out at hockey. He remembers being a wobbly little six year old staring at the goal, barely even able to hold the practice stick he was given. He remembers the coaches that believed in him, that wanted him to succeed. He loved being on the ice from then on. He could've gone to the fancier rinks uptown where the locker room showers actually had decent water pressure and the ice was zammed more often, but this was his childhood. His safe space. This is where it started. There were only three other people besides himself. There was a young boy, his mother, and a bored looking concessions runner.

Kent was there that day to practice shots. First, taking shots from the midline. Then started skating at speed around the goal, past the goal, towards the goal. He was making shot after shot, loving the sound of the stick meeting the puck.  He loved this feeling, when skating was all there was. When skating was easier than riding a bike, than walking, than breathing. This time was his. Those shots were his. The rink was his.

Except for the little boy, who looked like he was stuffed in a marshmallow, that has been trying to skate around the rink for the past half hour. He sees the kid watching him as he skates, looking at Kent and trying to copy him, never quite getting it right. And every time he falls, he uses the edge to pull himself up. But when he got near Kent and fell, he crawled over to him and stared at him with his (admittedly cute and puppy-like) brown eyes. Kent always gave him a hand (he's not that much of an asshole) but he wasn't happy about it.  He came here to practice, not babysit.

He watched as the kid went around the rink, stopping practice for a bit. When the kid inevitably fell, he looked up at his mother in the stands, but she was doing something on her phone, paying no attention to the sadness on the boy’s face. That moment sent Kent back to when he was in same position looking up to the stands for his father’s help/approval/encouragement but there was nothing. Just the top of a head that was paying more attention to the PDA in his hands than his own son on the ice. He hated that man especially after he left his mother for the maid, leaving her with a mortgage to pay and 3 kids to raise. But that was neither here nor there. He's in the NHL now, he doesn't need his father and he never did. He hoped that didn't happen to the boy and his mother. He hoped the boy was loved and supported, that this wasn't normal. It was none of his business. He went back to practice.

The wobbly-looking boy skated a while longer and after every slip and tumble he looked more and more resigned, like he was going to quit. Kent was not going to let that happen. He couldn't really explain why he started helping (maybe because he was a professional, or maybe the kid reminded Kent of himself ,unlikely though) but he did. He said “spread your feet” as the boy passed again. And later, “get up on your knees when you fall; don't rely on the boards.” He got this weird proud feeling when the kid didn't fall as often and when he did, he could get up by himself. As Kent was leaving the ice, he noticed the mother paying more attention now that whatever she had to do was done.

The boy came up to him and said, “my name is Mason. Thanks for the help, sir."

“My name is Kent Parson. And I think you'll be a pretty great player when you grow up.”

As Kent walked off the ice he heard a quiet whisper of “Kent Parson helped me skate? THE Kent Parson? Wow.” Then a slightly louder, "MOM! You'll never guess what just happened!"

Kent felt a little lighter and a little happier as left for the locker room. He hoped the kid stuck with it.

Years later, after Parson has retired, he's watching the draft on ESPN. He hears the Aces pick a kid named Mason Flynn. When he looks up, he sees a kid who looks a lot like that little boy at the rink. He gets that same funny little proud feeling in his chest. Kent smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! Come yell with me about Parson and Check Please! on my tumblr I'm hockeyandbaking! Send me prompts! :D
> 
> (concrit is welcome)


End file.
